


The White Howl

by tipsytennant29



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh!
Genre: Adventure, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Curses, Dark, Dark Fantasy, Demons, Mononoke Inspired, Mythical Beings & Creatures, Skull Kid - Freeform, Swordfighting, Swords & Sorcery, White Wolf - Freeform, miyazaki level fantasy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-04
Updated: 2018-06-06
Packaged: 2019-04-18 04:11:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,524
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14204763
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tipsytennant29/pseuds/tipsytennant29
Summary: Two brothers. One cursed to wear the skin of a white wolf. Together, they embark on a quest to undo the spell. But in this valley of darkness, can they find the cure?Fantasy AU.





	1. Battle With The Thief

**Author's Note:**

> This story was inspired by an original concept imagined when I was in late middle school / early high school. A very early fanfic idea. I’d just seen Princess Mononoke, and that story had quite an impact on the types of high fantasy stories I wanted to write. 
> 
> I had this dream before season 5 aired, back in 2005, so this originally would have been a tangential "in America" arc before KC Grand Prix, in which Yami is turned into a wolf and Yugi must duel a big bad in order to undo the magic. However, in updating this, I wanted to bring in more mature themes, and once again tell a darker type of story more in line with Takahashi's original manga themes.

**“Battle With The Thief”**

The moon hangs low in the skies, full and ominous. Like a giant eye, it looks down on its dominion, radiating a brilliant, white light. The rolling mountains and wooded valleys bathe in that pale glow, peppered with patches of dull gray and midnight black.

A solitary howl breaks through the stillness -- loud and mournful. It floats like a question on the evening breeze, an extended hand waiting to be met. But nothing except stillness answers the howl. The nighttime cicadas chirp, filling the void. 

High on a rocky outcrop, where jagged cliff meets mountain, stands a large, white wolf. His snow-colored fur stands out, stark against the shadows, as he surveys the forest below. While his stature and muzzle are stoic -- majestic even -- his blood red eyes are tinged with anxiety. 

Rearing back, he looses another howl. But this time it’s shorter. Breathier. Worried. His large chest rises and falls rapidly, a small whine escaping as he prances as close to the cliff edge as he dares. 

The call carries over the black trees, searing through the valley like a hot knife. Something moves inhumanly through the canopy, violently stirring the leaves in its wake. The wolf’s howl chases after it, trunks whipping by at breakneck speed. The world turns momentarily into a giant, blurry streak of gray and brown...until…

The echo reaches a solo traveller, heading in the wolf’s direction. While his tunic is loose and flowing, leather and metal armor shapes his torso, forearms, and legs. Part of his face is obscured behind a shozoku mask. 

The young man’s ears perk, his face quickly jerking up. “Atem?” he questions, gaze turning to the distant mountain briefly. 

A deep but similar voice fills his mind, as the traveller accepts the wolf’s message. 

_Get out of there, Yugi. Something’s coming._

Jaw set, his intense, vibrant purple eyes sweep around him, surveying the glenn. It’s too still, too quiet. Even the cicadas have gone still. The leaves drop from the treetops lazily, looking like snowfall as they waltz to the ground.

The white wolf leaps from the cliff, barrelling down the mountainside. Ears pinned back, he bares his razor-sharp teeth as he beelines towards his brother. Yugi could hold his own in a fight, but Atem wouldn’t - no, couldn’t - risk losing more family.

Yugi reaches for the blade at his hip, partially drawing out the sword. The metal glints dangerously, reflecting the moonlight in its polished face. As he adjusts his weapon, the reflected light sweeps across the trees, illuminating the twisting branches above him. Slowly turning in a circle, he warily checks all around him…

The light falls across bright yellow eyes. Yugi flinches, fully drawing his sword. He stands at the ready, focused, gaze locked on the creature above him. The weapon’s hilt gleams, shining golden in the moonlight. An ornate eye adorns the metal, seemingly eastern in design. Something about it brings forth images -- a sea of sand, rolling dunes like ocean waves, unimaginable burning heat. 

A rasping rattle bleeds out of the trees, as a humanoid creature leans into the moonlight. It’s face is shrouded, covered by a creepy carved wooden mask. The yellow eyes seem to glow, radiating mania and hunger. Its head cocks, stuttering like a broken clock mechanism. Something about the movement seems very wrong. Very unnatural. 

It brandishes a hand, extending it forward. The skin is greenish brown, and its arm is veiny, with lean muscle and surprising length. Its fingers are clenched tightly around something in its palm. 

Yugi’s eyes narrow, flicking between the hand and its eyes. Slowly, the creature’s fingers unravel, revealing a glowing, teal stone streaked with glittering black quartz. The dim light highlights Yugi’s tense expression, reflecting in his irises. 

With a start, he checks his belt. His hip pocket is open, and it deflates under his touch. Empty. The creature hisses a laugh, snapping its arm back up into the trees. 

“Give that back,” Yugi growls, stalking up to the tree. He yanks the shozoku mask away from his face, exposing his lips and nose. A small, deep scar runs half the length of his left cheek, angry red against pale skin. 

_Yugi, is it--?_ Atem asks, his voice filling Yugi’s ears. 

_The Thief,_ he replies. His eyes burn with hatred. _And he has the stone._

The Thief dangles the stone, suspending it from its wispy fingertips. It rolls it in its hands like a close-up magician, making it vanish and reappear every few movements. Long, greying strands peek out from underneath the mask, cobb-webby and matted. 

Yugi slowly, cautiously, approaches the base of the Thief’s tree. “Thief,” he calls out, his voice even. It’s both a challenge and a warning. 

The Thief doesn’t look at him. “I heard the white howl,” it giggles, its voice muffled behind the mask. 

_Atem,_ Yugi thought, projecting out to the environment around him. 

_I know._

Without warning, the Thief freezes. Soon the only sound is the creaking tree branches as ethereal wind shakes the canopy. The stillness is madenning, like a held breath. And then the Thief began to laugh. At first quietly, but growing louder and more manic with each passing second. It rocks on its perch, as if pitching in an unseen current. 

A growl and bared white teeth tear through the underbrush, snarling into the glenn at full tilt. The white wolf snaps at the Thief, its powerful jaws missing the creature by a hair. It leaps lithely aside, attaching to another branch some feet away. 

This dance continues, as Atem lunges after it. Near miss after near miss. Yugi observes that the Thief thinks this exchange is playful -- a brief spell of amusement. Gritting his teeth, Yugi tightens his hands on the sword. As he wrings the hilt, the blade begins to pulse, a yellow aura shimmering around it. 

He takes off running after the Thief, staying low to the ground until he is even with Atem. It takes precision, timing his swings into the brief lulls between Atem’s snapping jaws. Every strike is aimed towards the Thief’s face -- at that eerie wooden mask. 

The Thief stumbles, tripping backwards over a hanging vine. Yugi jumps up, capitalizing on the advantage. His blade comes down hard, cutting a deep groove into the wooden mask. However, the metal is caught, wedged only a few inches into its strike. Struggling to pull it free, he wiggles the hilt, finally managing to break loose by pushing off of a nearby trunk. 

As he falls, Yugi catches a glimpse of the face beneath the Thief’s mask. Sallow, yellow skin accented with dried blood. A frightened human eye, with earthy brown irises instead of gold. The moment passes quickly, however. The Thief covers the gash, crying out in rage and pain. The stone falls from its hands, clattering down from the canopy. Breaking away from the chase, Atem bounds after it, catching the jewel in his mouth. 

The young man and the wolf stop short, huffing. Yugi watches as the Thief bleeds away, crawling back into the safety of the shadows. The quiet settles over them again, blanketing the forest in a natural stillness. 

“He’ll be back,” Yugi sighs, running fingers through his hair. It became wild during the pursuit, an unruly nest of brambles and twigs.

 _He always is,_ Atem agreed, bowing his massive head. 

The stone tumbles out of his jaws, dropping onto the damp, mossy forest floor. A small pool of saliva dribbles down with it, coating its shining surface. Yugi scrunches his nose as he fishes it out of the leaves, giving a cursory shake before tying it back into the pouch on his belt. Atem’s eyes drop apologetically. 

“We should move. Find shelter. I don’t think we should risk going back to the cave now,” Yugi turns in an about-face, sheathing his sword. It slides smoothly into the scabbard, locking with a metallic shink. “A new dawn would give us more protection.”

 _Mm,_ the wolf nods, pensive. He follows slowly behind Yugi, head bowed. His massive paws thump rhythmically against the wet earth. 

After some silence, Atem interjects. _You saw his face._ It wasn’t a question, but a statement.

“I did,” Yugi replies stiffly, careful not to let any emotions register. 

Atem’s eyes shift up, watery. He focuses on Yugi’s back as they move through the underbrush, waiting for his partner to continue. 

“It’s...not good.” His voice crackes, wavering a little. “It’s killing him.”

Atem’s ears flick forward, his expression softening.

“We don’t have much time left,” Yugi concludes with a pained sigh. He glances back over his shoulder, his eyes and mouth creased with grief and worry. 

_I’m sorry. I know you were close._ Atem pushes his snout against Yugi’s back, attempting to offer comfort.

A small noise escapes Yugi’s throat, like a short laugh, as he wipes silent tears away. He stops walking, turning to press his forehead into Atem’s thick fur. His face gets lost in the moon white tangles, sinking into it like plush. Atem’s jaw rests against Yugi’s shoulder, a heavy but familiar weight. 

It’s been two years since Atem was able to hug Yugi back. Now more than ever, he desperately wanted to. His brother needs him. Needs something normal in the topsy turvy supernatural that had become their life. Heavens knew they both could use a break from it all. 

Two years. Such a short lapse can feel like a lifetime. 

In a way, it had been a lifetime since they had both lead normal, human lives.


	2. Two Years Ago

Sunlight filters through the handmade tatami shades, poking white beams through tiny holes in the craftsmanship. It dapples across the exposed, sunkissed skin of Atem’s chest as he lay dozing. His dark hair looks almost brown in the places where light grazes it. The air crackles with heat, as radiation lines ripple the air near the dirt floor. A chorus of cicadas ribb, minimally muffled by the thick bamboo walls. 

A young woman stirs beside Atem, moaning as she curls into his side. Loose strands of chestnut hair shift, falling across her face as she settles again. Almost unconsciously, Atem reaches over and strokes her arm, his fingers trailing lightly across her skin. Goose pimples appear as she shivers, her vibrant green eyes wearily cracking open. 

“Morning, love,” Atem whispers, his eyes remaining shut. 

“What time is it?” Mana yawns, stretching. Pushing herself upright, she lets the blanket fall away from her naked form, pooling in her lap. Golden rays highlight her breasts, tracing her silhouette down to her distended stomach. 

“Almost noon, I think. The sun’s high,” he replies. With a tired sigh, he rubs his eyes, finally giving in to daytime. 

She twists, throwing Atem a playful smile as she tousles her messy curls. They hang low on her back, tickling the pillow as she bends over his face. Her lips cautiously, teasingly, part his, and she plants a deep kiss. Her fingers creep up the side of his face, twisting into his wild hair as she throws a leg over his waist. 

Chuckling, he runs his hands down her back and sides, coming to rest over her belly. The way he holds her is reverential, as if she was a goddess. 

“How is he?” Atem inquires, tracing his thumb over the distinct curve of her abdomen. 

Mana pulls back, still resting on her knees as she straddles Atem’s waist. Her fingers weave through his. “You still think it's a he?”

“Of course,” Atem smiles, squeezing her hands. “A strong, healthy son to continue the Mutou line.”

“I don't know. The midwife said I was carrying high. Boys settle low.” Mana looks doubtful as she eyes her stomach. 

“Old wives tales,” he dismisses. “It will be a boy. I just know it.”

She rolls her eyes, “If you insist.” Bending back down, her lips hover mere centimeters from his own. He rises to meet her, but she keeps him pinned to the bed with one hand. 

A knock at the door startles the couple, both scrambling to disentangle and cover themselves. Covering her mouth, Mana stifles a small giggle, her cheeks pink with blush. Atem kisses her cheek, grinning widely before asking, “Who is it?”

A soft voice calls through the door. “Jii-san would like to know if you’re joining us for lunch.”

_Yugi,_ Atem confirms, displeasure settling on his features. The outside world beckons. 

Before Atem could turn and beg Mana to stay in bed, she springs up, shrugging into a loose robe. He must have had a mournful look on his face, for she answers “What? I’m hungry.” 

After Atem’s huff in response, she brings his face to hers. Her forehead presses to his, their noses grazing each other. “Later, ok? I promise.”

Mana opens the wooden door to reveal her brother-in-law and Atem’s twin, Yugi. Although they are genetically identical, the two brothers were physically distinct. Atem appears slightly taller, with tanned skin and narrow, intense eyes -- while Yugi is paler, wide-eyed, and thin. Of the two, Atem is much more fit for manual labor, so he is tasked with maintaining and harvesting the family’s rice fields. Yugi helps when he can, but he spends more time caring for their ailing grandfather, Sugoroku. 

“Ah, good afternoon Mana,” Yugi smiles. His grin radiates warmth, and he immediately puts everyone around him at ease. 

“Afternoon, Yugi,” she replies, toustling his long, black hair playfully. Atem had been born a full ten minutes before Yugi, so he was the oldest. But sometimes those ten minutes seemed more like years, and moments when Yugi still seemed like so young. Mana couldn’t help but treat him like like a child.

“Is Atem coming?” he asks hopefully, leaning around her. A deep grumble from inside answers his query. Atem stalks by his family like a panther, squinting in the bright, golden sunlight. 

“What’s for breakfast?” he yawns, stretching as he soaks in the summer heat. His dark red irises adjust as he stares up at a cloudless, bright-blue sky. 

“You mean lunch?” Yugi cocks an eyebrow. Atem waves his hands, as if to say whatever. “Well, Jii-san and I started some bentos. But it doesn’t look like the weather will hold out for much field work.”

Surprise colors Atem’s expression. The weather? he thinks to himself, eyes shifting and scanning the horizon. The skies look clear to the west and south, as far as he can see over the rice paddy fields and marshes. But as he spins around, he takes notice of the billowing, dark gray storm clouds that gather at the crest of Mount Ochai to the East. An ominous rumbling follows crackling streaks of lightning as they worm through the sky. 

_That’s odd. A midsummer storm?_

“I don’t like the look of it,” Mana sets her jaw, her eyes troubled.

“Nor I,” Yugi agrees, beckoning them over towards his neighboring home. It’s not far, merely across an irrigation stream, but all three Mutous appear nervous. The encroaching storm distempers their walk. 

Yugi holds the door open as Atem and Mana enter his modest, cluttered hut. The dirt floor has been swept clean, but it is littered with tunics and wooden toys. Yugi enjoyed whittling, often carving puzzles and simple playthings. He reasoned the baby would need entertainment once it was born, but Atem knew that was just an excuse. Yugi loved games, a passion he was rarely quiet about. 

Two large straw beds occupy most of the space, opposite a mid-sized stone kitchen. Their grandfather, Sugoroku, sits propped up in one of the beds, still dressed in his sleeping robes. His wizened, wrinkled face is lined with fatigue, but it still manages to hold a surprising amount of playful energy and joy. 

“Ah, Mana my darling,” he chuckles, holding out his arms for an embrace. She gladly goes to his side, curling into his hug as he plants a kiss on the top of her head. “You’re well?”

“Yes, very,” she replies softly, cupping his withered cheek in one hand. “And the baby is also in good health.”

Sugoroku’s eyes twinkle, alight with happiness. “You know, I never thought I would live long enough to see my great-grandchildren. I was going to be the travelling, gambling bachelor. Seeing the world, rotating through women. But you three...you full my life with so much joy.” He turns to his two grandchildren, “Your parents would be so proud of you.”

Atem smiles, a touch of sadness permeating his expression. “Love you, Jii-san.”

He moves to help Yugi in the kitchen, scooping and shaping rice into the clay bento boxes. It’s a thoughtless, repetitive motion, which leaves him far too much time to worry.

“Do you think we’ll have enough rice?” Atem eventually asks, his voice low. “Who knows how long this storm will last, or how devastating it will be to our crops.”

Yugi glances towards Mana and Sugoroku. “We might. Our last haul was more than fair.” He pauses, looking down at the cast-iron skillet in his hands. Watching as the grease bubbles and snaps around the strips of chicken he’s cooking. “I’m hoping it doesn’t last very long. A midsummer storm seems like a bad omen.”

“Mm,” Atem hums in agreement, palming rice balls into shape. 

Outside, the wind begins to pick up. Ginko leaves fly by outside the hut’s only window, as an unseasonable chill permeates the room. The summer warmth from the morning is all but gone, as the temperature drops unnaturally. 

A frantic knock at the door stirs both brothers from their focus. Even Mana shifts, her curious eyes roving towards the entrance. Wiping his hands on a rag, Yugi goes to answer it. 

The bamboo door swings open with force, bolstered by gale force. Mana’s younger sister Anzu, huddles near the entrance, her stick-straight, shoulder length brown hair whipping in the wind. Wide, doe-eyed, sky-blue irises blink as they take in Yugi’s appearance, a rosy blush creeping into her cheeks. Smirking, Atem suspects the redness in her cheeks isn’t from windchill. 

When Atem and Mana began courting, Anzu had insisted that she tag along as her sister’s escort. Their village was a few hours away by foot, separated by dense woods. Full of spunk and over-confidence, Anzu took pride in her self-appointed role as Mana’s “protector”. But as the couple grew more and more serious, she was resigned to long hours in Yugi’s hut, waiting out the dates and overnight stays until Mana was ready to go home. 

Yugi, of course, felt bad for Anzu. He tried to cheer her up, showing her some of the games he created. Intrigue slowly beat out her reluctance, and they became fast friends. Neither would admit it, but they had become something more over the years. Atem had often joked that he and Yugi were doomed to marry sisters, since they shared just about everything else. Yugi was starting to believe him. 

“A-Anzu,” Yugi stammers, ushering her inside. Picking up a discarded tunic from the floor, he drapes it around her shoulders, gesturing for her to take a seat on the free mattress. “We weren’t expecting you!”

She shakes her head, teeth chattering as she exhales a breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding. “I’m sorry to drop in unannounced. But I overheard some news in our village, and came straight away.”

Mana raises her head, shifting as she leans towards her sister. “What news?” She reaches for Anzu’s hand, and clutches it. “You’re cold as death! It couldn’t wait?”

Again, Anzu shakes her head. “A stranger came. The storm followed him like a plague.” Her eyes lock on Yugi’s, trembling. “I’m afraid of him. He reeks of darkness, and makes my hair stand on end. I’m not even sure he’s human.”

“Do you know what he’s after?” Atem presses. Yugi shoots him a look, taking a seat beside Anzu, wrapping his arm around her shoulder. He rubs it, trying to heat her with the friction. 

“Only that he’s coming here,” she shutters, her breath hitching. 

Atem and Yugi share a quizzical look. “Here? To our farm? Why?”

Sugoroku, who had been quiet through most of the conversation, finally speaks. “He’s probably after the puzzle pieces.”

All eyes shift, falling directly on the elderly man’s grim visage. He strokes his beard, brows furrowed. 

“Jii-san?” Yugi tenses, his eyes widening. 

Sugoroku gestures toward’s Yugi’s chest, where a strangely-shaped golden trinket hangs. It is bound by a black leather cord, very unassuming in appearance. Realization dawns across Yugi’s face, and he cups the piece in his hand. It glints in the dying sunlight, flashing bright yellow. 

“You were both so young, so you probably don’t remember how your parents died,” Sugoroku begins, propping himself up in bed, “But they gave you these necklaces on the night they passed. In part, to protect the puzzle pieces. But also, I think they hoped it would protect you too.”

Atem watches Mana, who reaches up to touch the piece - his piece - that is tied around her neck. Her fingers tremble as she handles it, overcome with emotion. She looks like she wants to tear the necklace off. 

“Jii-san...were there more pieces? What happened to them?” Yugi implores. 

Sugoroku nods, his eyes pinched shut, arms crossed tightly over his chest. “There were 37 pieces in total. Our family inherited them a long time ago, from a merchant hailing from the East. He said they came from the desert, forged in sands under a burning sun.” 

“But why would we want them?” Yugi asks, brows knit in confusion. “What would our family need of golden puzzle pieces? We’re just rice farmers.”

Sugoroku is quiet for a moment. “Because they have power.”

A hush falls over the hut. Soon, only the whipping sound of the wind and stirring leaves outside can be heard. 

Atem is the first to break the silence. “What exactly can they do?”

Yugi tugs his necklace loose, holding the piece up. He shakes it cautiously, like a sleigh bell, but nothing happens. 

“On their own? Nothing. They’re harmless,” Sugoroku assures, assuaging Mana’s apprehension. Her shoulders relax, her body visibly slumping. “But if you were to unite all 37? I’d say anything would be possible.”

“So we should hide these. If that’s what he’s after,” Yugi slowly enunciates, turning the piece over in his palm. The wheels turn in his head, desperate to create a plan.

Thunder crackles overhead, shaking the walls. The Mutou family pulls closer together, huddling in the center of the room. Shadows dance across the walls, teasing the stranger’s arrival.

“It might be too late.” Atem reaches for Mana, for the worn leather cord around her neck. He gently pulls it loose, wanting to keep her as far from danger as possible. “I think our best chance would be to surrender them. Maybe then he will move on and leave us be.” 

“No!” Sugoroku cries, clutching Atem’s arm. “No, you mustn’t give them over. For all we know, those are the only two pieces keeping the puzzle from being finished!”

Fire burns in Yugi’s eyes in response. “And so what if it is? It’s not our concern.” He looks to Atem, hoping to find the same fighting energy. “You’d put Mana’s life - Anzu’s life - in jeopardy, jumping into a battle we know nothing about? This isn’t our war.”

Sugoroku exhales, releasing a long breath. He seems to age before his family’s eyes, graying and tiring under the weight of his own words. “But it _is_ our war. We may not have started it, but we’ve been silent soldiers for decades. Your parents inherited that fight, and its legacy passes down to you.” 

“And if we don’t do something, it will be our children’s fight too.” Atem finishes Sugoroku’s thoughts for him, verbalizing the reality no one wants to admit. Mana stiffens, tears welling in her eyes. Yugi blanches, squeezing Anzu’s hand for comfort. 

Rising, Atem appears to draw in strength from the environment. Standing tall, with jaw set and eyes unwavering, he accepts his future looking every bit the hero.

“Take Mana and Anzu to the root cellar,” he instructs Yugi, as he prepares to leave. He ties the puzzle piece around his own neck, before tucking it into his shirt. He bristles as it touches his skin, unmasked revulsion darkening his expression.

Wordlessly, Yugi takes Anzu’s hand, lacing his fingers through hers. He pulls the tatami shades aside as carefully as possible, pinning them back with one of Anzu’s jade hairpins. She steps into his waiting hands, and he boosts her over the windowsill. He waits, ear pressed to the wall listening for her landing before tending to Mana. 

Anzu reaches back in through the window, snaking her arms under her sister’s, bracing to shoulder her weight as she’s passed through the opening. An arm protectively shields her stomach as Mana scans the horizon, waiting for Yugi to join them. The woods around their home are quiet, devoid even of the usual bird calls. A mist creeps up from the marshes, swirling at their ankles as they hurry forth into the cover of the Ginko trees. 

Meanwhile, Atem is making his way across the irrigation channel with brisk urgency. He throws open his hut’s door, beelining for the back corner. A tarnished sword and shield hang decoratively over his dresser, a dusty, untouched memento from his father. Rising up onto the balls of his feet, he carefully lifts it from its holder. He handles it delicately, like a sleeping child, supporting its weight across his open palms. 

His father frequently scolded him as a child, demanding he never played with his sword. _That’s a weapon, boy,_ Father’s voice echoed through Atem’s head, _Not a toy. Play with that thing, and playtime’s over._

Atem could even picture him, seated on the edge of the straw mattress in a loose robe, his legs open wide. Their father had been a confident man, military, with a bark and creased skin like Clint Eastwood. He wore a permanent scowl with his grimace, often decorated with a tobacco or opium pipe. Atem recalled the smoky smell of his father’s breath, and his nose pinched in distaste. 

_We need a weapon now,_ Atem thinks to himself. His eyes turn skyward, as if asking for his father’s permission - his blessing - before he arms himself. But no answer comes - he didn’t expect one. 

He slides the shield down his left arm, wiggling his fingers and flexing his forearm to test the fit. It feels like it was designed for him - and suddenly it’s hard to image his surly father wielding it in a war. He grips the interior handle, and swings it hard to his side. Not as heavy as he thought it would be. But the sword has a heft to it. He twists it over in his hands, feeling the balance. Decides he can use it. 

Thunder crashes all around him, shaking the ground. Signalling the arrival. 

Atem sheaths the sword between the folds of his tunic belt, steely determination darkening his expression. He approaches his hut’s door, bracing for the storm.


End file.
